A Short Trip to the Future
by LittleMana
Summary: Marty makes a short trip to the future. WARNING: Trip is not short at all.
1. Taking the Time Machine

_**A Short Trip to the Future**_

_Marty makes a short trip to the future. WARNING: Trip is not short at all._

Chapter 1 — Taking the Time Machine

The plan was to get in, check his future mail, get out, return the DeLorean to Doc's house, and run like mad—skateboard, actually, because his car made odd, clunking sounds once in a while that could wake up potential witnesses—back home before anybody found out. Simple and direct as his plan was, Marty felt a little nervous. Hadn't Doc warned him about the consequences of messing with time? However, those consequences only popped up when a time traveler was careless. Not that Marty was careless…he simply wasn't a planner. And besides, whatever things he messed up in the future could be dealt with later. Literally.

Marty McFly slowly steered the DeLorean time machine away from Doc's new home in the outskirts of Hill Valley. Since the scientist was a family man now, he no longer lived in a messy old garage. Doc sold the garage and bought the new house on Elderwood Drive, which was an improvement, size-wise…but it was a pain for Marty to get there half the time. On skateboard, it took him half and hour. On truck, it took him twenty minutes. Also, during his visits at the Browns, Marty suddenly found himself attached to a certain Verne Brown, who worshipped him. Marty could never figure out why…was it because he could play the guitar, or was it because he could ride a skateboard? In any case, it was a bit embarrassing to have to walk around the house with a little kid wrapped around his leg. On the other hand…it was a little flattering, too. To have someone look up to him was a new experience for Marty, being the youngest in his family.

Thinking of Verne made Marty feel guilty for taking the time machine in the first place. It was like he was setting a bad example or something. It wasn't Marty's DeLorean or time machine. Doc had built another DeLorean time machine simply because it was easier to use than the train. Not that he used it that much, anyway. In fact, Marty couldn't think of one time that Doc _had_ used the new DeLorean for time travel…but perhaps it was because he hadn't seen him a lot as of late. Marty shrugged. Well…now that he was here…he gripped the steering wheel. If he was quick and if he didn't erase anybody from existence, he'd be fine. Get in, check his future mail, yadda yadda yadda…nothing could go wrong, right?

He quickly punched in the destination time: **3:00 PM, May 24 1986**. He figured that his college letters should have been in by then. He drove farther away from the Brown residence and he pressed his foot harder into the gas pedal. As the number on the speedometer climbed to 85 miles an hour, Marty shut his eyes and braced himself to deal with temporal displacement.

Three sonic booms sounded.

Marty wanted to open his eyes again, but found that he couldn't. It was broad daylight outside! Rather than risk blindness, Marty shifted his foot from the gas to the brake pedal in the dark. He knew that there weren't any trees he had to worry about around the Brown house. He eased his eyes open a crack, but had to shut them again. The car eventually slowed to a stop, and Marty breathed deeply to calm his nerves and waited to regain his eyesight.

His eyes finally opened.

So far, so good. There were no other cars on the road, and he was also far enough away from the Brown's house to have entered this time unnoticed. Now it was time to hide the DeLorean.

According to his calendar, the Marty McFly of May 24 1986 was on a weekend trip with his family to the mountains. The Marty of January 11 1986, who had just arrived via time machine, parked the DeLorean in Doc's old garage. Though the garage now belonged to the state, Marty still had the keys. Nobody really wanted that old place, anyway.

Marty took out his skateboard and rode to Lyon Estates.

Afraid that one of his neighbors might spot him, Marty hid from place to place, sneaking up on his own house. He crept up on the house's back window and checked to see if anybody was inside. There wasn't. Marty circled the house and entered through the front door. He had to turn off the alarm, which was a good sign. There was definitely nobody home.

Shutting the door behind him, Marty made a beeline to the pile of letters on the coffee table. His hands found the 'Marty pile' and started shifting through the envelopes.

After a couple of minutes of searching, Marty frowned. No letters from the colleges yet? It was May, for Christ's sake! Maybe he took the letters into his room. That must have been it. In fact, he knew _just_ the place where he future self would have hidden something has private as those college letters. He started down the hall, feeling a bit apprehensive. One, he didn't want to spend _too_ much time here in the future, although he knew that he was totally safe. Two, he was about to find out which colleges had accepted/rejected him! It was nerve-wracking.

It was a good thing had had access to a time machine. Now, he didn't have to wait.

Marty examined the bookcase. Which book was it, again? He plucked _The Neverending Story_ off the shelf and popped it open. Inside was his letters from the colleges. Smiling nervously, Marty flopped on his bed and spread out the envelopes all around him. It was judgement time. Marty hummed a random tune to calm his nerves and to fill the quiet, empty space that surrounded him.


	2. Running into Someone Familiar

Chapter 2 — Running into Someone Familiar

Jennifer Parker stared at the newspaper clipping in her hands sadly. It couldn't be true, could it? It had only been a week ago when it happened. To her, it seemed like _ages_. It was as if she were sitting in a dream.

She casually examined her surroundings. She was squished in the backseat of a car with Dave and Linda, who were sharing a quiet conversation. Mr. and Mrs. McFly were sitting in the front, not saying a word. Jennifer bit her lip and held back her tears. She could hardly believe where they were going. It wasn't just like a dream; it was a nightmare!

"Mrs. McFly?" she said quietly. "Is…is Doctor Brown coming too?"

"I'm afraid not, Jennifer," Mrs. McFly sighed. "He said that he really wanted to come, but that he had another matter to attend to."

"Oh," said Jennifer, crestfallen. "What about Eileen?"

Mrs. McFly shook her head. "I don't know."

Jennifer folded up the newspaper clipping and stuck it under her arm. She was grimly envisioning what was going to take place in the next few hours when she suddenly remembered something.

"Mr. McFly!" she exclaimed. "I-I think I forgot something at your house! Could we turn around?"

As Mr. McFly made a U-turn, Jennifer sank back into her seat, her heart thumping wildly. How could she have forgotten something like that? It was so special…she had to throw it in with…

She pushed the thought away and decided to concentrate on something else. Like college. What would she major in? She liked English and biology, but did she like them enough to major in them? What about physics? What about mathematics? She was always good at math…maybe…hmm…

Against her wishes, she thought: _Marty would have wanted to become a music major_…

Jennifer groaned and closed her eyes.

The car rolled into the driveway. Jennifer hopped out and ran to the door, fumbling with the keys she borrowed from Mrs. McFly. She struggled to unlock the door when she realized that it was _already_ unlocked. Puzzled, Jennifer took out the key and pushed it open.

The alarm wasn't set as well. Jennifer shut the door behind her and darted into the kitchen. She snatched up the key chain she had left on the table and stored it in her purse. She took the newspaper out from under her arm and examined it again. She choked back a sob.

Instead of heading straight back into the car, Jennifer decided to take a look at Marty's room one last time before she left. She strode across the hall, stopped in front of the door, and twisted the doorknob…

————

Marty covered his ears and hummed louder, shaking his head. So many rejection letters! He should have studied harder. Would he be able to go to the same college as Jennifer? He groaned. He knew that Jennifer had better grades than he did. He didn't want them to be separated…

There were still a lot of letters left…but judging from the ones he had already read, it wasn't encouraging. God…he was starting to sound like his old man back in the Unchanged 1985. Was he becoming a wimp like him? He started on the remaining letters, trying not to feel discouraged like a _man_. So what if he was rejected a few times? He should have expected it. He wasn't a grade A student anyway. A few rejections weren't the end of the world. Besides, he was going to be a _musician_…

The door opened. Marty whipped his head to turn and stare at the intruder.

It was Jennifer, who was, curiously enough, completely dressed in black. She took one look at him and gasped in shock. A paper fluttered from her hand and settled on the floor.

"M-Marty?" she squeaked.

"Jen?" Marty choked, feeling like he just had a heart attack. "What're you doing here?"

They stared at each other for a few tense seconds. Then, Jennifer's eyes rolled back and she fainted.


	3. When did that happen?

Chapter 3 — When did _that_ happen?

There was a loud thump as Jennifer collapsed into the floor. Marty rushed to her side, hoping that she hadn't hit her head and died when she fell. How was _that_ for wrecking future events!

Marty quickly checked Jennifer for any bumps or broken bones. She seemed to be all right. Too bad the floor was made of wood instead of carpet; it would have softened the fall for her a little.

Unwilling to leave his girlfriend simply lying in the hall, Marty took her to his room and, after pushing the letters aside, lifted her onto his bed. Marty hastily stuffed the letters back in the book, which he jammed back into the shelf. He was about to hurry out the window when he spotted the paper that Jennifer dropped on the floor. He snatched it up and made his escape.

Safely outside, Marty peeked around the house and saw his family's car parked in the driveway. George McFly was getting out of the car and was walking in the house. Damn! Marty ran away as fast as he could. Why hadn't he heard the car drive up earlier? And why was his family back home already?

Safely out of his family's sight, Marty allowed himself to rest. He crawled up under a tree and sat in the shade as he caught his breath. That was a close one! He noticed that the paper still crushed in his hand, so he slowly unfolded it to read what it said. It was a newspaper, he realized. Perhaps he could find out which teams won which games over the last few months…heh heh heh…

And then he read the headline:

_CAR ACCIDENT CLAIMS TEEN'S LIFE_

Marty froze. This wasn't going to be good.

There was a big black-and-white picture on it, too. A Toyota truck and what appeared to be a Honda lied next to each other, partway on the sidewalk, partway on the street, and partway into a _building_. Police tape wrapped around the area. Policemen stood around, taking notes and talking to each other. There was the back of an ambulance peeking out at the corner of the photo.

He scanned the article. Apparently, Jennifer started crying when she read the article because there were splotches of unreadable material here and there. Marty rubbed his eyes as well when he came across his name.

_Martin Seamus McFly, age eighteen, was killed when…_there was a splotch of messed up print here, as well as an actual tear in the paper…_the other driver, Jeremy Chaser, aged nineteen, had a BAC level ten times over city limits…_

_Jeremy Chaser?_ Marty thought with a jolt. _That name sounds familiar. Did we go to the same school or something?_

The thought of being killed in a car accident alongside a drunken former classmate disturbed him. Marty squinted at the two cars. Both of them were completely wrecked (he winced); and it seemed nearly impossible for either of the drivers to walk away uninjured…or alive.

Marty folded up the newspaper and headed towards the DeLorean.

He plopped into the driver's seat of the time machine with a grim mission in his hands. _Operation Save my Future Life_, he thought, turning on the car's engine. Marty looked the newspaper over to find the exact time and place the accident occurred. _May 17, around 9: 30 PM on Shanna Avenue, Grass Valley_…

Grass Valley? That was more than an hour away! What was his future self doing there? Marty thought hard. What was he going to do on May 17th? Did he have a performance that night?

Marty shrugged. He had to just wing it.


	4. Following his Future Steps

Chapter 4 — Following his Future Steps

It was May 17 1986, 7:00 PM.

After finally working up the nerve to use the flying circuits, Marty carefully parked the DeLorean on top of an apartment building. He tiptoed down the stairs, aware of the fact that there were people living in these rooms. Once safely out of the building, he bolted. His plan was to hurry to Shanna Avenue early and work back from there; he didn't think he could stop two cars from colliding if he was a pedestrian. In fact, he planned to find his car and damage it so that his future self couldn't drive it out into the streets in the _first_ place.

Shanna Avenue was not a busy street. Marty wandered around there aimlessly, feeling somewhat amazed. He was going to die _here_, out of all places! Far away from home, away from his friends and family. He was still a kid, for God's sake…

Marty shook his head. There were so many things he had to do! He had to start his career, get married (he got a little flustered with this thought), and have kids (he then got more than just a little flustered with _this_ thought). Suddenly, all those rejection letters from the colleges didn't matter any more. If he was dead before he could even _enter_ college…

Marty pushed those thoughts away from his mind. The biggest problem he faced was having to figure how exactly _where_ his future self went in Grass Valley and parked his car. He picked up a newspaper. What was going on tonight? A performance, an audition?

_A rock and roll concert_.

Marty squinted at the advertisement under a streetlight. Anderway Hall—wherever that was—was where he had to go.

Thirty minutes after leaving Shanna Avenue, then jogging down numerous dead end streets and asking various people for directions, Marty finally made it to Anderway Hall. Music from the Hall and otherwise swirled all around him. Lights, cars, and people streamed by him left and right. Marty slowly made his way to the parking lot.

It was _huge_. Marty surveyed the sea of cars in dismay. How was he ever going to find his truck in this mess? He scratched his chin. Unless…

Marty's hand dove into his pocket and emerged holding a ring of keys. Marty was about to use his car's remote unlocking device when he realized that he didn't _have_ his car keys with him! He faintly recalled skateboarding to the Brown's house an hour (or a few months?) ago and leaving his car and its keys at home. He dejectedly slipped the DeLorean's keys back into his pocket.

So now what?

He aimlessly wandered around the parking lot. The concert ended at ten, so that gave him…what? A little more than two hours to find it? Plus, there was no guarantee that his future self was even _attending_ that concert. What if his future self was at Grass Valley for some other reason?

His doubts fled when the spotted his truck. Hardly believing his luck—it was just _sitting_ there!—Marty went over to it and examined it. Unfortunately, the truck he spotted only looked uncannily _similar_ to his car. The inside was filled with trash (unlike _his_ truck, which was filled with sheet music) and its license plate read TAXBRK instead of MAR-something-something-something. Shoulders slumping, Marty wandered around the parking lot some more, stopping to get a closer look at all the trucks that vaguely looked like his.

After twenty minutes of searching, Marty finally gave up. He squatted, grabbing his knees and staring into the ground. He hadn't _done_ anything! He needed a plan.

Something wet dropped on his head. Marty looked up and squinted at the darkening clouds. _Great…_he thought sarcastically as it started to drizzle.

He moved his arm over his head and turned to gaze at Anderway Hall. His face fell, and a feeling of hopelessness welled up inside him. He had until ten when concert ended…

Wait a second. The concert ended at ten? Marty ran his fingers through his hair, frowning. Ten? Ten o' clock? Something didn't make any sense. A cold, chilling feeling swept over him, so he hastily drew out the newspaper clipping to examine it under the moonlight. It was nearly impossible to read, but looking at it reminded Marty of something very important.

_STUPID! STUPID STUPID STUPID!_ his mind roared. If he had attended a concert that ended at ten, how could he have died at 9:30on a street five blocks away? He furiously crumpled up the newspaper, stashed it away, and leapt to his feet. Sneakers pounding the asphalt, Marty rushed back the way he came. He had to get back to Shanna Avenue and try again. There wasn't much time left!


	5. One Block Away

Chapter 5 — One Block Away

_Studio City_.

Marty was barely one block away from Anderway Hall when those brilliant words flashed by the corner of his eye. He glanced at the building, wondering if he could work there someday. Though it wasn't the same as making it big as a major rock star, it would give him a chance to still play his music with a steady income. If he could make it. If he could even _audition_ for these people, for God's sake. He shot the studio a bitter look.

He wasn't even a half a block away from Studio City when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. With wide eyes, he slowly turned around. Hesitantly, he jogged back to the building, his mind reeling.

Soon enough, he was standing right in front of his truck. The combination of drizzling rain and glow from the nearby building gave the truck an almost heaven-like glow.

Marty checked the license plate. _Score!_ MAR-whatever-whatever-whatever! He let out a whispered, "_Yes!_" and circled the truck. He pressed his nose to the glass and peered inside the truck. The seats were covered with sheet music. Yup, definitely his car. He backed away and rubbed his hands together nervously. Now came the hard part—he had to wreck it.

If only he had brought his _keys_! Then he could have simply driven it away. Well, desperate times came for desperate measures. Marty didn't know squat about cars, so messing with anything under the car's hood was definitely out. He decided to let the air out of the tires.

The doors to the Studio City building suddenly opened. Marty instinctively ducked. Peering out from the eye level of a cat, Marty spotted a woman briskly striding out of the building and heading towards her car. He waited until she safely drove away before straightening up again. The woman's sudden appearance reminded Marty that at some point in time his future self would finish his business in Studio City and walk out into the parking lot. He had no idea how much time he had. He had to act quickly!

It took Marty a tense twenty minutes to let the air out of two of the car tires. Evil deed done, Marty ditched the parking lot and disappeared down the street. Heart racing, he hurriedly went on his way back to the DeLorean.

Marty breathed a sigh of relief when he reached Shanna Avenue again. At last! He was only one block away from—

Suddenly, a dark figure sprung out from a narrow alley and jumped in front of Marty. Marty let out a high pitched screech and leapt into the air. Scrambling, he spun around and ran as fast as his legs would allow.

"_Marty!_" called an impatient, familiar voice behind him. "Come back here!"

Marty screeched to a stop, his eyes wide. Heart racing, he replied tentatively, "Doc?"

"Yeah!" said his friend.

"What…what are you doing here?" Marty asked, shocked.

Doc motioned to follow him. "No time for questions! Quick, this way!" He disappeared down the alley.

"W-What?" Marty stammered, confused out of his mind. Frowning, he followed his friend down the alley. It was hard to follow Doc in the dark; he relied on sound to keep track of where his friend was headed. More than once he clipped his shoulder on a corner of a building during a sharp, unexpected turn. It was difficult to run on the damp ground as well; it wasn't until he slipped and spectacularly crashed into a dumpster did Doc finally come back to him.

"Sorry we had to go so far," the scientist apologized after helping the injured teen to his feet. "But wanted to make sure that we were far away enough from the crash site."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Marty groaned, wincing has he ran his fingers over a bruise on his head.

"You'll know soon enough," Doc replied evenly, looking over the bump. Marty continued to frown.

"Does this have something to do with time-travel?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just wait a minute or two," was Doc's short reply.

Marty squared his shoulders and gave his friend an uncomfortable look. He tried to get him to talk several times, but to no avail. Doc didn't seem to be in the mood to say anything, anyway. He looked rather stressed.

After ten minutes of waiting, the two heard a squeal of wheels and a sharp impact in the distance. A brick building groaned, and its inhabitants screamed. Doc exhaled softly, and a content look slowly spread across his face.

"What the heck was that?" Marty wanted to know, disturbed. "What's goin' on, Doc?"

"The accident," Doc replied, calmly looking over his shoulder to glance at the source of the screams. Marty's blood ran cold.

"_What_ accident?" he pressed.

"The accident that you were supposed to be involved in," the scientist finished. "Space-time continuum or no…I wasn't going to let that happen. Besides, it would only change a week or so of the future."

"What?!" the teen squeaked, incredulous. "It…I just…but I…" he stammered.

Doc gave him a curious look. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"No no no…" He had a faraway look in his eyes. "It can't be…" he whispered.

He broke into a run, much to Doc's surprise. "Marty! Wait!" Doc called, chasing after him. Marty ignored him, too caught up with his wailing thoughts.

_This can't be happening!_ his mind screamed. _The car! I broke it. I screwed it up. I couldn't have been driving it, but the accident…it still happened. Did my other self fix it? Or…oh no…_

_At the accident…what if I…_ A look of stunned understanding suddenly spread across his face, and a chill ran up his spine.

_…what if I was a _pedestrian?


	6. Today is May 17 1986

Chapter 6 — Today is May 17 1986

_Is it going to rain today?_ wondered the Marty of May 17 1986. He squinted up to the darkening clouds. Perfect, just _perfect_.

Clutching his guitar case in his left hand and stuffing his right hand into his pocket, Marty squared his shoulders and strode outside to the parking lot. Fifteen seconds later, he was standing next to his car, fumbling for his keys. A spit of rain tickled his hair. _Great…_he thought sarcastically as it started to drizzle.

He slid into his car, shut the door, and automatically turned his key in the ignition. The car made this funny grunting sound and stalled. Marty hit the steering wheel a couple of times and turned the keys again. The car stalled again. Muttering curse words, Marty got out of his car and hurried back into shelter of the building.

Stupid car! It had been acting up for months now. He just never got around to sending it to a good mechanic. Marty didn't know squat about cars, so messing with anything under the car's hood was definitely out. He needed to find another way home. Only problem was that he was out of cash (_Thirty bucks? Is that all I have?_), so he locked himself into the phone booth and gave his family a call.

"Hey Mom?" he said.

"Marty, dear?" his mother answered. "How did the audition go?"

"Uh, great, it was great," he said, glancing at the fizz of rain outside. "They said that they would look into it and stuff. Hey Mom, I've got a problem here. My car won't start and I'm really low on cash."

His mother clicked her tongue in sympathy. "Oh my. I'm not sure what you can do. Can't you find a train or bus? Or a hotel?"

"Dunno," he said, searching his wallet for his credit card. "Maybe I can…hey!"

"What is it?"

"I've still got Eileen's phone number!" he breathed, holding up the scrap of paper into the air. "Remember her? From middle school? Loved science and math?"

"Oh yes. Didn't she move away?" remembered his mother.

"Yeah, she did. To Grass Valley! Maybe I can give her a call. I don't think this number still works, so I'm gonna have to look her up in the phone book."

"Do what you think is best," she advised him. "I don't mind if you don't come home tonight, honey."

"All right, Mom," said Marty, squinting at the tiny row of numbers marching across the scrap of paper. "Uh oh. Time's up. Talk to you later."

"Take care," said Lorraine, and Marty hung up. He fished out some change flipped through the phone book. He located Eileen Woodward's name and hesitantly dialed the number. Three rings later, a familiar voice picked up.

"Jeremy? Is that you?" said Eileen. "Did you get kicked out of _another_ concert?"

"What?" Marty replied, taken aback. "This is Marty McFly. You know, from middle school. Remember?"

"Middle school? Marty?" she repeated slowly. "Since when did I give _you_ my phone number?"

"For a biology project, remember?"

"Yes…but I _moved_…" Eileen said suspiciously.

"Phone book," Marty supplied.

"Oh," she grunted. "Well. Sorry about callin' you Jeremy. I thought you were my boyfriend."

"Do I know this Jeremy?" Marty wanted to know.

"Maybe," said Eileen mysteriously.

"Was he that rich kid in the seventh grade who—?"

"In the past, McFly!" she interrupted loudly.

The operator muttered something in Marty's ear, and he hastily dropped more coins down the slot.

"Listen, Eileen," he said, shifting the phone over to his other ear. "My car's broken down, and I was wondering if you knew any good mechanics around here."

"At this time of night?" Eileen scoffed. "Grass Valley may be bigger than Hill Valley, but it's hardly _Los Angeles_…"

"Then…maybe you could point me to a good hotel?" asked Marty hopefully. "Somewhere cheap?"

"Why don't you just come over to my place?" she suggested. "It may be a teeny little apartment, but it's not bad. Where are you?"

Marty told her.

"I can't drive you over here, sadly," Eileen lamented. "My license got revoked 'cause I got one too many speeding tickets. I'd ask Jeremy, but he went to that concert and won't be out till ten. If you walk, it'll take you forty-five minutes, tops. It's not _that_ bad," she added, perhaps sensing Marty's frown on the other side of the phone line. "Come on. It's either that or nothing."

Marty didn't have choice. Eileen gave him the directions to Hart Apartment Complex. She was going to be waiting for him in the lobby.

"Could you do me a favor?" she asked. "Could you go to 7-11 and pick up a couple of instant noodle bowls and bring it over to my place? I'll pay you back, of course. I'm all outta food over here."

"Sure thing," Marty replied, memorizing the mess of directions he scribbled down on a piece of paper. "See you later."

He hung up.

He had been walking for half an hour since he stepped out of 7-1l. It was tough, considering the fact that he was lugging a guitar and a pair of noodle bowls in a bag all the way. The rain was steadily growing heavier, so Marty was unable to had to squint to read out the newest street name.

_Shanna Avenue_.

Marty smiled. Good. He was only one block away from Elieen's house now. He would be inside and out of this damned rain soon enough. He pulled his jacket tightly around him and strode on.

Shanna Avenue was a long street. The streetlights barely cast a dim glow, so he couldn't judge how much farther he had to go. Plus, there weren't any cars around to give him some light from their headlights. However, from far behind him, he could hear a pair impatient to get past the light signal rev up.

Marty glanced down. _What the…?!_ Water was getting into the plastic bag and was soaking the instant noodles inside! Stopping short, he gathered up the bag and fumbled with the slippery straps. How could tying a simple knot would be so difficult in a dark, rainy night? He put down his guitar case and devoted both of his hands to his work.

Car wheels shrieked in the distance.

It took him several frustrated seconds for him to jerk his fingers out of the tangled plastic mess. Angry, Marty set the bag down and decided to do things the easy way—hold the bag just below the handle. He gathered the 7-11 bag into his fist and picked up his guitar case again. He tossed his head to get his wet bangs out of his eyes, and he resumed walking, casually glancing at the buildings next to him. The street beside him began to glow as the cars racing down the street neared.

_Hope those morons get a ticket_, Marty thought as the cars sped closer to him. A drag race on a dark, rainy night like this? Someone might get killed! Marty briefly thought back to the car accident that he narrowly avoided a few months before. Having his hand broken was almost a fate worse than death. Thank God he learned his lesson in 1885…

Marty snapped out of his thoughts when a loud, thunderous crash and a horrible scream of tires shattered the serene quiet around him. With wide-eyes, Marty turned his head to look over his shoulder.

A pair of bright headlights burned his vision. He screwed his eyes shut and opened his mouth to scream, but by then it was too late.


	7. Doc's Story

Chapter 7 — Doc's Story

Marty simply could not find his way through the maze of alleys. He was forced to ask Doc for help, which he refused to give. He instead insisted that Marty go to this placed called Hart Apartment Complex and not ask any questions. This last bit was especially trying. Since when could Marty let Doc leave him in the dark?

Marty stubbornly refused to move and demanded that Doc show him the way back to Shanna Avenue. After a bit of heated argument, Doc eventually gave in and promised to tell him about the accident while they walked.

"But you have to tell me what's going on with _you_, Marty," he said, crossing his arms. "You're acting awfully strangely. Are you hiding something from me? Why do you keep asking me about the accident? What do you know about it?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow. "_Did_ you know about it already? Did you use the time machine try and change things?"

It was then that Marty realized, with a sinking heart, that he could never hide anything from Doc anyway. They were close friends; they knew each other like the back of their hands. Part of Marty wondered if he could hide his little theft from Doc back in January 1986 anyway. He was never any good at keeping secrets.

"All right," he finally gave in. "You win. I'll tell you my story, and you tell me yours. Just don't kill me when I tell you mines."

"What did you do?" Doc asked incredulously.

"Why don't you tell me what you're doing here first?" Marty replied, side-stepping the question.

Doc uncrossed his arms. He motioned Marty to follow, and the two briskly started their way through the maze.

"I'm from May 24, 1986," Doc began. "A few days before, your sister, Linda, gave me a call and told me that she and her family were at Grass Valley. I asked her what for, and she explained everything." He swallowed hard. "You, Marty, were hit by two cars in Grass Valley on May 17th, and your family had gone to the city morgue to verify the body."

Marty inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything.

Doc eyed him carefully. "The police had done some investigating, and they pieced together what you did that day. Your car had broken down that night, and you had called your friend Eileen Woodward to ask her if you could stay at her apartment. She agreed. You were on your way to Hart Apartment Complex when two drivers, Jeremy Chaser and his friend, Arnold Bakers, started a drag race about a block behind you. Because of the slippery road and both drivers' drunken state-of-minds, one car went out of control and slammed into the other. Both cars went crashing into you, and then into a building." He nodded in the general direction of the accident site. "That's why you and I heard screams."

"So I…" Marty started, fearing the worse.

"Yes," said Doc solemnly. "Died right away. No time to yell or anything, or so the people in the neighborhood claim. Didn't even know that a person outside the building got hurt until the police took a closer look."

"That's…that's awful," the teen said, running his hand over his hair. "This is…this is _beyond_ heavy." He looked up at the scientist. "You came here to save me, right?"

Doc nodded.

"I think you failed," he said cryptically.

They had reached Shanna Avenue.

It didn't take them long to spot the crowd of people forming around the accident site.

"Can we get closer?" Marty wanted to know.

Doc hesitated. "If we change things so these events never occur, then I suppose we can. That is, if you are who I _think_ you are." He rounded on Marty. "You're not from May 17th 1986, are you?"

Marty gave him a small smile. "I bet you figured that out ages ago," he said.

The scientist huffed. "I had my suspicions, but I didn't know that you used the time machine before. And I _know_ you can't be from the future."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm from January 11th 1986."

Doc snorted. "Whatever reason you've got, it'd better be good," he said tartly.

Marty shrugged vaguely. "Well…it just seems really stupid, now," he sighed.

"Let's get closer," Doc suggested.

The pair effortlessly shouldered their way through the small stunned crowd. Soon, they too, were laying their eyes on the horrible scene. Two cars, crunched together and pressed up against a bent, crumbling building fizzed and steamed in the misty rain. There was something, rather, some_one_ else, mixed into the mess that the crowd didn't notice yet and that neither of the two men who knew wanted to get a closer look at. Once Marty knew that Doc was listening, he began to tell his story in a low voice.


	8. So What Do We Do?

Chapter 8 — So What Do We Do?

Marty had just finished telling Doc his side of things and was giving him time to take it all in when he noticed something funny about the totaled truck.

TAXBRK. That was it said on its license plate.

"Tax break," Marty muttered, chuckling to himself. "Jeremy Chaser, I knew it. The rich kid from seventh grade!" He paused and thought for a moment. "Didn't he break my scooter?"

"What did you say?" Doc wanted to know.

"Nothing," Marty replied quickly. The two heard sirens in the distance. "Do we have to leave now?"

Doc gave him a quick nod, and the two fled the scene. Once safely away from the crash site, Marty began to voice his concerns.

"So what happens now, Doc? What are we supposed to do? I mean, the accident still happened. I still _died_, man. We have to get to the DeLorean—erm, one of them—and do something. Hey! Are you listening to me?"

Doc stopped in his tracks. "From what I understand, we don't have to do anything. Not directly, anyway."

Marty made a confused sound.

"If your story is as you say it is, then I should be disappearing very soon," he continued. "I shall, as you once almost did, cease to exist. At least, in the way that I am now."

Marty's mouth dropped open in shock. "What?! Get outta town! Disappear? Now?"

"I wonder if I'll have double memories," Doc mused, scratching his chin.

Marty panicked, and he danced on front of Doc to get his attention.

"_Doc_," he pleaded, grabbing his friend's shoulders. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Marty, if you go back to January 11th 1986 right away, then this accident will never occur," Doc said. "I will disappear from Grass Valley and reappear in Hill Valley—as is where I should be right now—and you will survive past this date."

"But how do you _know_?" Marty asked. "How does me going back to January help things at all?"

"Because you know what's going to happen," Doc explained. "You are from January, so when you go _back_ to January and reach May through the natural course of time, you will be able to avoid this accident simply because you know of it beforehand. See?"

Marty's head spun. "Not really," he admitted.

The scientist sighed. "You'll get it eventually. In the meantime, just go back home. It's very simple, really."

Marty felt a little stung by this last comment. "Thanks a lot," he muttered. He gingerly felt the bump on his head.

"And Marty…" Doc added. "The next time you want to take the time machine, ask me first, okay? Time travel is not to be used so casually. And besides, you should know that I don't appreciate it if you…ah…_borrow_ my things without me knowing."

Marty swallowed hard. "Sure thing," he promised in a small voice.

Doc gave Marty an unreadable look and strode off. The teen waited until he was gone before he made his way back to the DeLorean.


	9. Back in Time

Chapter 9 — Back in Time

Marty was feeling pretty bummed out, considering the mess he had just gone through and the fact that he had just betrayed his best friend. Actually, he betrayed his friend as soon as he first took the time machine (when was that? a day ago? three months ago?), but he didn't realize the impact of his actions until just then.

Of course, when he walked into the apartment where the DeLorean was parked, he was surprised to find a girl walk over to him, beaming, and ask him where the cups of noodles were. Puzzled, Marty replied that he didn't have any food with him.

"Oh," said the girl, disappointed. "There weren't any left at 7-11? You could have gotten _something else_ you know…"

Marty shrugged. He glanced up at the ceiling, thinking of a fast get away. "Uhh…listen…I need to use the restroom," he improvised.

The girl jerked her thumb over her shoulder to point to the elevator. "The one the lobby is closed, but there's one on every floor. I'm on the second floor, and my room is 288. Wait outside by the door; I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

Marty gave her a puzzled look.

"I'm waiting for Jeremy," the girl explained. "It should take him ten minutes to drive here from the Hall, and I want to make sure he's all right. Unlike _last_ time." She rolled her eyes. "Can you believe it? That bum got drunk and got kicked out from the last concert. Makes me wonder why I bother dating him." She let out an exasperated sigh.

Marty shrugged and, once he was sure that she was finished talking, climbed into the elevator. He reached the top floor and walked up an extra set of stairs to reach the roof.

Soon, he was climbing into the slightly damp time machine. The DeLorean soon took off into the air, and, even though Marty had his misgivings, returned to January 11th 1986.

On the morning of January 12th, the Browns were surprised to find a sleeping teen on their living room couch.

Unknown to them, Marty, after driving for an hour from Grass Valley, had returned to Hill Valley at around one in the morning. However, Marty's internal clock claimed that it was around five, so once he returned the time machine, he had no choice but to go into the house and crash.

Verne was especially pleased to have his favorite person come for a sleepover. He tried to wake his friend up, but Marty was more or less totally out of it. Disappointed, Verne went to the living room once every half-hour to see if his friend was awake yet. It was 11:30 when Verne saw Marty sitting up on the couch, yawning.

_What a terrible dream!_ Marty thought while he stretched._ I went to the future to check out my college letters and—_

He was tackled.

"Oooohhh…" he groaned, not prepared for such physical activities so early in the morning.

"Helloooooo, Marty!" Verne sang, hugging him viciously.

"Verne?" Marty said in surprise. "What're you doing in my room?"

Verne grinned up at him. "You're in _my_ house, silly!" he laughed. "You're in the living room!"

Marty's eyes flew open. "WHAT?!"

He pushed Verne off of him and stood up. "What day is it?" he wanted to know, looking around frantically.

"Uhh…Sunday?" Verne guessed, getting to his feet.

"The eleventh or the twelfth?" Marty clarified.

Verne rubbed the back of his head. "I dunno…yesterday was the eleventh, I think…"

"Where's your dad?"

"I dunno," Verne shrugged. "Wanna play Chutes and Ladders with me?"

"I'm over here," said Doc, poking his head through the doorway. "Good morning, Marty." He nodded to the teen.

"Later Verne," said Marty, his mouth dry. He gestured to Doc. "Can I talk to you for a while?"

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing sleeping in our living room?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Uhh yeah. That, and other stuff too." Marty looked uneasy. "We might want to go on a walk, because it's a long, _long_, story."


	10. The Trip Ends

Chapter 10 — The Trip Ends

Marty told him everything. Turns out, Doc didn't get as mad at he thought he would. In reality, he steamed up a little, yelled once or twice, said "Great Scott!" a few times, but was, relatively speaking, only mildly peeved. (Doc had an enormous reservoir of patience stored inside him somewhere, and a truly angry Doc was not one of the nicest people Marty had ever met.) Doc gave him the long, predictable lecture about the dangers of time travel in general, and he promised to put some more security around the DeLorean so the mischievous kid couldn't get to it again.

Finally glad to have that guilty weight lifted from his chest, Marty was impatient to get to his next order of business: have Doc figure out a plan to make sure he didn't die in May. This was his response.

"You don't have to do anything, Marty."

Marty sighed. He shouldn't have expected anything else.

"But that's what _you_, I mean, your past, I mean, your _future_ self said already!" he protested. "I don't _get_ it."

Doc casually flicked his hair back. "Take a while and think about it," he advised. "It's very simple, really."

Marty made a face. He thought back to what future Doc said to him the night before.

_You are from January, so when you go _back_ to January and reach May through the natural course of time, you will be able to avoid this accident simply because you know of it beforehand. See?_

And then it clicked.

"Oh!" Marty gasped. "So that's…that's _it_? I just…sit around and act like nothing's wrong? No more time machine?"

Doc nodded. "I suppose you didn't realize it earlier because you were so tired. From what you've told me, it sounded like you'd been up for a _long_ time."

Marty agreed.

"But now that my brain's working, I've got a couple of questions for you," he said. There was one in particular that burned in his mind. "If you gone back and saved me on May 17th, how come the newspaper still said that I died?"

"The ripple effect takes time to change the future," the scientist explained. "Remember when you broke up your parents back in 1955? You didn't disappear right away; in fact, it took you nearly a week. It takes time for changes in the past to affect the future."

If he thought about it for a while, it vaguely made sense.

"Um…okay," Marty said uncertainly.

"If you don't mind, I have a question for _you_," said Doc. Marty tensed up, but he needn't have worried. "Do you happen to know why Chaser left the concert so early? You told me that it was supposed to end at ten, but he was at Shanna Avenue at nine thirty."

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, you can get kicked out rock concerts if you get too drunk and start doin' stuff, you know," Marty guessed. "Maybe he was causing a lot of trouble or something." He suddenly felt a chill go up his spine.

"Perhaps," Doc mused.

Now he remembered. _That girl!_ She was complaining about her boyfriend, Jeremy, who—

"Jeremy!" Marty exclaimed loudly. Doc gave him a curious look and asked him what was the matter.

"Of course!" the teen breathed, slapping his hand to his head. "It all makes sense now…_the girl…Eileen! And her boyfriend, Jeremy…Jeremy Chaser…the apartment…_" He explained his revelation to the scientist.

Doc rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Incredible. The very apartment you landed the DeLorean on was the one your future self was headed to! Perhaps you were destined to be there…or it was just a remarkable coincidence."

The two fell silent for a while.

Doc half smiled to himself. "Now that I think about it," he said in a bemused voice, "It seems that your adventure can be very…_ironic_ at some parts."

The teen made a face. "It's like a horrible fiction story some moron wrote up," he muttered. "I'd like to have a word with the author if I ever had the chance."

Doc eyed him critically. "Now _who_ took the time machine in the first place?" he pointed out.

"I think we should go back in now," Marty suggested quickly.

The two returned to the house. Fifteen minutes later, Marty was skateboarding down Elderwood Drive and onward towards his home in Lyon Estates.

_And towards a brighter future_, he thought hopefully, the pushing his foot on the ground to keep his skateboard moving. The wind whisked through his hair, blowing his bangs over his face. _But first things first: I gotta get that car fixed!_

The End.


End file.
